


fall in love with another burning bright

by shadowsinwinter



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, i guess?, set during pp3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 14:50:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20084020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsinwinter/pseuds/shadowsinwinter
Summary: Letting go means that she’ll have to return to the real world – return to her new job, to a world where she’ll be moving to LA, away from Chloe. Without Chloe.So she hangs on, for a little while longer – she just wants to hold onto the redhead for as long as possible while she still can. While she can still call Chloe her own.Then she hears it, a whisper, so quiet that she thinks she’s imagined it.“I love you, Beca.”set during/after Beca's performance in Pitch Perfect 3: Chloe has a confession, and Beca has a choice to make.





	fall in love with another burning bright

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iPhone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iPhone/gifts).

> this fic is from between-the-downbeats-verse, though it can be read as a standalone. it was actually part of my original drafts before i switched everything around and ended up rewriting it from chloe's point of view - this has been languishing in my discarded folder for over a year. so i guess, here, have a bit more of BtD, from beca's perspective. fic title taken from cassiopeia by sara bareilles.

_then: a spark from a star shooting too close  
they both smiled, what a day to explode_

* * *

“How do you feel?”

“Fucking terrified,” Beca confesses, chewing on her bottom lip as she rocks on the balls of her feet, a tightly wound ball of stress and anxiety – she’s _never_ performed alone before, whenever she’s found herself on a stage, she’s been surrounded by the other Bellas, her _sisters_, but now that she’s due to head onstage for her huge solo debut in ten minutes or so, she’s not so sure that she can do this alone. “Chlo, what if I fuck up and mess up the song? What if I end up throwing up onstage? What if – ”

Chloe cuts off her nervous rant by placing a finger across her lips gently, before reaching down to take Beca’s hands in hers, and Beca relaxes slightly, leaning against the redhead with a quiet sigh of relief. She’s always had a knack for calming Beca down whenever she works herself up into a panic like this, and this time is no exception – she feels Chloe release her hands to wind her arms around her waist instead, pulling her in for a hug, and she buries her face into fiery red hair, inhaling deeply, letting the familiar sweet scent of Chloe soothe her. The embrace works wonders, and by the time Theo’s calling for her to head backstage, she’s managed to pull herself together slightly, and feels less likely to completely lose her shit onstage.

It doesn’t stop her from letting out a quiet whine when Chloe pulls away though, so the Chloe reaches out for her hands again, entwining their fingers together and gives them a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ll do great,” Chloe murmurs, her bright blue eyes sparkling with pride and anticipation and so much _warmth_, and Beca just wants to stand there forever, if it means that Chloe _never_ stops looking at Beca like that, _ever_. “You’ll be _aca-awesome_, and if you get nervous, just remember that I’m in the front row of the audience, okay? Just look at me, and you’ll be fine.”

“Promise?” She asks as Theo shouts for her again – she needs to leave, and _soon_, but she can’t bring herself to move out of Chloe’s arms just yet. Chloe leans forwards, presses a gentle kiss to her forehead, and tucks a flyaway strand of hair back behind her ear before pushing her towards the stage.

“I promise.”

And true to her word, Chloe’s _there_, almost right in front of Beca – Beca spots her immediately when her gaze begins searching the audience, the flash of red hair visible even from the dim stage lighting a dead giveaway. Even from this distance, she can see that Chloe’s eyes are already glistening from unshed tears, an impossibly wide beam curving her lips.

She feels her own lips quirk upwards in an answering smile, and for a fleeting moment, despite the hundreds of people crammed into the concert hall with them, it feels as though they’re the only ones there. For a moment, the rest of the world falls away, and there’s no audience, no DJ Khaled, no Theo, and…

It’s just Beca and Chloe.

Like the way it’s _always _been just Beca and Chloe –

It feels as though Beca is singing for Chloe alone, and she’s suddenly thrown back in time to the first (and only other) time she’s ever sung solo in front of an audience – she’s suddenly thrown back in time to the Bella auditions. Chloe had been giving her the same look then as the one that she’s giving her now –

It’s the same look that she’s given Beca the day of the Bellas initiation, the look she’s given her the day Beca landed her job in LA, the very same look she’s given her earlier today, when she’d announced that she’s been signed by DJ Khaled, of all people.

It’s _the look _that she gives Beca whenever Beca turns to her for approval, the one that tells Beca “I’m so proud of you!”, the one that tells Beca that no matter what she does, she’ll _always _have Chloe in her corner, cheering her on – and it suddenly hits her that Chloe’s been her rock, her _anchor_, and her biggest supporter over the last seven years, and _fuck,_ now she’s crying onstage.

* * *

The audience is still roaring their approval, the noise ringing in her ears as she turns around to face the Bellas, her eyes automatically seeking out Chloe, first – and then Chloe is _there_, reaching out for her, and Beca leaps into her arms, sinks into her embrace gratefully. The touch grounds her, reminds her that this is _real_, that there are people out there cheering for _her_, and she lets out a shuddering gasp, pressing her face against Chloe’s shoulder, letting the redhead’s warmth envelope her. The rest of the Bellas engulf them in a huge group hug, and she lets out a yelp when a particularly sharp elbow (she can’t tell who the culprit is, not when they’re all tangled up together like that, but she has a sneaking suspicion that it’s Emily) meets her ribs before they’re shepherded off the stage. She sighs in relief as the girls begin peeling themselves away, because even though she loves all of them dearly – really, she _does_ – they’re _overwhelming _even in the best of days, and she can hear Chloe let out a low chuckle at her reaction.

It’s just her and Chloe left, still wrapped up in each other – she feels Chloe beginning to loosen her grip, so she mutters, “No”, buries her face deeper against fiery red curls. She can't – _doesn’t _– want to let go, doesn’t want to leave the protective bubble of Chloe’s arms; letting go means that she’ll have to return to the real world – return to her _new job_, to a world where she’ll be moving to LA, away from Chloe.

Without Chloe.

So she hangs on, for a little while longer – she just wants to hold onto the redhead for as long as possible while she still _can_. While she can still call Chloe _her own_.

Then she hears it, a whisper, so quiet that she thinks she’s imagined it.

“I love you, Beca.”

And Beca freezes, thinking she's misheard – because seriously, _what_?

She pulls away, her mind racing, but the moment’s already been _seared _into her brain, replaying itself over and over again: a soft puff of breath tickling against her ear, the scent of Chloe’s rosemary-and-lavender shampoo all around them, and a soft phrase ‘I love you, Beca’ murmured almost like a prayer. It makes her feel like she’s standing on the edge of a precipice – she can turn away and pretend she’s never heard it, ignore the moment and pretend it never happened, and her friendship with Chloe will never change.

Or – she can also take the step off the cliff and hope that Chloe catches her before she hits the ground.

Beca has never been one for taking chances – but she remembers the way Chloe had looked at her, all warm and _reverent_, like Beca is something precious to her.

So she takes a breath, and _leaps._

She stretches up on her tiptoes – because even in her boots, Chloe still has a good inch over her – and presses her lips to Chloe’s, almost clumsily, in a quick first kiss. It’s over in a second, and she finds herself suddenly shy when she rocks back on her heels. Chloe’s face is unreadable, and Beca’s just starting to panic when she finally moves to pull Beca flush against her, cups her cheek, and kisses her.

Beca feels one second of relief, before it’s replaced by a wild, euphoric joy that makes her smile into the kiss, then laugh, and then they’re forced apart.

But Chloe’s still leaning her forehead against hers, staring back at her and smiling so widely, her bright blue eyes so wide and pretty and _soft _with adoration, and Beca releases her hold on the lapels of Chloe’s leather jacket, reaches out and gently, reverently, cradles her cheeks. Chloe turns, nuzzles against her palm, and lets out a sigh of contentment, and Beca fucking_ loves_ it. Loves that she’s the cause of it – of Chloe’s _happiness_, and thinks that there’s no better sound in the world. And in spite of everyone surrounding them, in spite of the Bellas – who’re already pointing and whooping (she can distinctly hear Emily shrieking in excitement and Aubrey telling her desperately to calm down, she’s shouting in her ear), everything seems strangely muted and distant.

It’s like they’re surrounded by their own bubble of calm.

Like they’re in their own little world.

Just Beca and Chloe, like it’s always been.

And always will be.

* * *

_come on, come on, collide, break me to pieces  
I think you're just like heaven_

**Author's Note:**

> briefly edited and self-beta'd this at 3.30am in the morning so i hope there aren't too many glaring errors.


End file.
